


pet, my pet

by itachitachi



Series: Summer Pornathon '12 [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Cat/Human Hybrids, Collars, F/M, Harems, Non/Dub-Con, Sexual Harassment, Sexual Slavery, Team Gluttony, Uther is a Creep, creepy one-way Uther/Merlin, the seasons got darker and so did my pthon fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 07:48:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2261676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itachitachi/pseuds/itachitachi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some call them harmless. Some call them demons, twisted, unnatural. Uther calls them convenient, and pays a small purse to anyone who can catch one and bring it to his keep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pet, my pet

**Author's Note:**

> For Pthon 2012, week 3: Non-human. I think this was a runner-up entry! I appreciate that. The alternative title is of course, "Uther and the Catpeople".

Some call them harmless. Some call them demons, twisted, unnatural.

Uther calls them convenient, and pays a small purse to anyone who can catch one and bring it to his keep.

He likes the way they look, elegant and soft. Feline. Their ears, rather than the usual human shells, are folded and furred, perched on the tops of their heads in the manner of cats. They have long sinuous tails, which for men can sometimes be seen twitching down a trouser leg, and on women are always hidden under skirts, sometimes peeking out from below. Their fur comes in all the natural colors, and they are universally highly responsive to touch.

"They make for more pleasant servants, I find," Uther tells Olaf, whose daughter is fascinated by the dappled, dark ears of Arthur's serving boy. She pulls him down by his red servant's collar when he approaches with the wine, running her fingers along the sensitive place where the ears join to his skull. The boy gasps, his eyes closing, wine spilling everywhere. Arthur glares at them both.

Beside Uther, Olaf raises his eyebrows. "It seems they cause a bit of a mess."

"They can't help themselves," Uther says, chuckling. "They're slaves to their senses. They need outside sensual contact, outside control. Servitude comes naturally to them, I find."

Other things come naturally to them as well.

"Yes," Uther says, crouching next to the serving boy as he scrubs the floor in Arthur's chambers. The motion of his hand with the scrub brush doesn't pause as Uther slides a gloved palm along his back, but the boy's ears twitch, pressing back against his skull. Uther smiles and ventures further, scratching at the base of the lump that is the boy's tail. The boy gasps and his rump jerks up, instinctive.

"Father," Arthur protests. He has always been protective of the boy. Uther should never have gifted away such a beautiful specimen, he thinks, looking at the pale line of the boy's bowed neck. He wants to drag the creature's trousers down right here and bury his fingers in the boy's arse, so nicely presented to him. He wants the boy for his own.

Instead Uther nods to his son, and stands. Leaves, for now.

He slakes his lust later, in the hall where he keeps his collections. Uther loves the way they respond to his presence—girls roll onto their backs when he approaches, breasts and bellies exposed, and boys spread their legs. He rubs their heads, soothing them as he passes by. In his younger days he would indulge them, spend himself in one or two, but he has a very specific desire tonight.

She rules them, clad in nothing but a black leather band around her throat. The band is adorned with a tiny silver bell. He had given it to her in her youth, when her ears had just started to change, before locking her safely away in here. She was his, and would always be.

"My lord," Morgana says, eyes slanted and sharp, but he doesn't wait for her to kneel—he forces her to her belly, one hand in her hair. She goes limp when he caresses her, moans and raises her arse when Uther rubs a thumb against the base of her tail. The tail lifts, exposing her pink arsehole and ripe, wet cunt. He spreads her, listens to her mewling noises, and buries himself inside.

These creatures were made for sex, Uther always thinks, whenever he has one in his embrace. Morgana rolls against him, her inner walls spasming and clenching around his cock as if his very presence is too much, but he does not stop and she does not want him to. He imagines the dark-haired serving boy—imagines that he can fuck the both of them at once, their cries filling the chamber, dark tails thrashing everywhere—and comes.

Morgana shudders as his gloved palms drag along her skin, smoothing away sweat. He brushes her collar with the movement, the bell jingling minutely.

"I will have company for you soon," he says, and she hums.

The first thing Uther does once he leaves the chamber is to call for the craftsmen. He needs a new black leather collar, and a little silver bell.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Pets (The Remix As Nature Intended)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2470580) by [sophinisba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophinisba/pseuds/sophinisba)




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